


Batfamily whumptober 2019

by Iwritewhenever



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Exhaustion, Explosions, Injury, Minor Injuries, Nightmares, Shaky Hands, Torture, Whump, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-10 18:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwritewhenever/pseuds/Iwritewhenever
Summary: Whumptober prompts for the bat family.





	1. Shaky Hands

Tim blinked rapidly as his vision went in and out of focus. The words on the screen going blurry before returning to normal. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands as if he were trying to rub away the exhaustion. How long had it been since he last slept? He looked at the clock on his screen, it read 2:30 in the morning. So about thirty-six hours since he last slept. He knew he was pushing his limits. But these cases weren’t going to solve themselves. 

He began typing, his hands and brain attempting to form words. He watched as his hands shook from the exertion. He bawled them up into fists, digging his nails into the palms before continuing. It wouldn’t stop, the shaking wouldn’t stop. He knew why too, he was past the point of exhaustion, he hasn't stopped working since last night, and coffee drugged his system. He picked up his mug and took the last remaining sip of the cold coffee. 

Struggling, he made his way downstairs to get another cup. It was dark and he was too lazy and tired to put the kitchen light on. Instead, he felt around for the counter and set the mug down. Not a second later he heard a crash as the same mug fell onto the kitchen floor shattering into a million pieces. He sighed as he bent down to pick up the pieces. With the lack of light, it made it harder to find the broken glass. His hand brushed some of it and he went to pick it up. 

“Dammit,” He cursed when he felt the sharp end stab into his hand and the warm blood begin to spill from the wound. He made his way to the sink and fumbled with the handles before turning to cold water on. He hissed through his teeth when the water hit the cut. 

“Tim?” Dick asked from behind him. The light turned on and Tim squinted from the sudden change. “What’s going on?” Tim hastily turned the water off and grabbed a paper towel wrapping it around his hand before turning to Dick.

“It’s nothing. Everything’s fine.” Tim was quick to reassure him. Dick looked at the pile of broken glass on the floor, then at Tim. 

“Did you cut yourself?” Dick walked forward and gently grabbed for Tim’s wrapped hand. He undid the sloppy job of covering the wound and looked at the cut underneath. “It’s not deep, you’re lucky you won’t be needing stitches.” He turned to grab the first aid which was in one of the cabinets by the sink. Tim watched blearily. His legs were shaking, and his hands, even his breath seemed shaky. He prayed Dick wouldn’t notice. 

Dick got out Neosporin and placed it on the cut, carefully rubbing it in. He then took some bandages and wrapped it around Tim’s hand. He clasped at Tim’s hand when it started shaking again uncontrollably, “I think that’s enough coffee, why don’t you get some sleep.” 

“But the mess,” Tim gestured to the glass on the floor. 

“It’s alright I got it.” Tim nodded too tired to argue. He turned and began making his way back to his room, “And Tim,” Dick called after him, “Maybe don’t stay up that late again.” Tim nodded at the suggestion. 

His hands were still shaking from adrenaline, but it wasn’t anything a little sleep couldn’t fix.


	2. Explosion

Sometimes, Jason could still feel it in his dreams. The pain, the fire, the smoke that suffocated him at that moment. He hadn’t felt any pain, of course, all those years ago. But somehow his dreams had the ability to recreate the pain that he should’ve felt. that day. 

He would wake up sweating. The blankets too warm on his heated skin. He would throw them and just lay there, and listen to the too-fast beating of his heart. It would take him hours to go back to sleep because anytime he tried to close his eyes the images would flash through his mind.

The grotesque smile stretching across pasty white skin. The maniacal laughter that pierced the air. His body rocking with every hit of the crowbar. Tied hands grasping for something to hold onto to help with the pain but finding nothing. His gasps coming in short and desperate. The smell of blood was strong and he could feel it everywhere, on the floor, in his hair, on his face as it ran down his chin from his mouth. 

The silent prayers he sent out to a God he did not believe in when he found the bomb. Wishing, hoping, that by some miracle Bruce would get here in time. But it never happened, the ticking stopped and the bomb went off. The blast was powerful and it slammed him up against concrete. The breath knocked out of him when he made contact. He felt bones break as rubble slam up against him and solid stone fall on top of him. The fire burned his skin and smoke clogged his lungs. He took a shaky breath after another shaky breath. His body ached with the impact of everything. 

There was blood everywhere now, he could see it splattered on rocks and on his hands. His ears were ringing and everything sounded muffled, even his own breathing. He watched silently as the rocks above him began to move. Light filtered in, and he thanked God for saving him. He watched as the gap got bigger and bigger. While his breath got shorter and shorter. “Jason,” He heard above him. 

Jason smiled and closed his eyes. He had been saved by an angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this one. Let me know what you thought.
> 
> find me on Tumblr @iwritewhenever
> 
> Have a great day/night

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys think, I'm going to try to upload every single day for whumptober. 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @iwritewhenever
> 
> Have a good day/night


End file.
